Lyrics:
just doo doo doo
She wanna know what I'm doing I told her just don't even touch me
I gotta get it I told her she a white bitch just giving me Becky
heard
at evening. Crickets echo in
an independent sound. Rhyme,
and tell his story and breathe
breathe. A shrill, loud
alarm, incessantly repeated.
please
I'm finna make a nine-year-old white kid speak Chinese
Ay, Chuck E. Cheeses
I think I'm finna call Jesus
Nowadays I always say, yes, please-es
My club is all pros like the brand of a white tee
Only a million dollars in my hand will excite me
And I tour across the atlas then I plan to go
Hear the fires crackle
And the crickets chirp
And there are bluffs
On the banks of the Cumberland
Where I can see the sun rise
From a world
Cream Man, Mr. Ice Cream Man, Mr. Ice Cream Man, Mr. Ice Cream Man)
Hit the blocks dressed in white with some baggy girbaud's
A pocket full of stones,
I might pop out in a white tee
Stunting on niggas that's why they don't like me
They must know that I'm a crisis
Freddy Krueger how these niggas be
on
You'll get a right to the grill, I'm white and I ill
A descendant of Dublin with titanic skill
I ducked and I swing, next thing your jaw's broken
Punk I
them windows back up
Money in the air, who say white men can't jump?
Catch that nigga late night on the phone at a gas pump
Let me get the phone
both my hands and feet
All my little white lies
Smell like a big old bucket of bleach
In one ear
And out your other
So lock and key
You won't
I like driving down those
Old dirt country roads
I love to listen to the sound of
The crickets on my back porch
I like catching fish on a cane
Pole
I pour up a lot, past, present, future
Syrup and sprite, turn that shit fuschia
Hawaiian Punch, Alo-hallelujah
We got that white girl workin' like
(VERSE1)
Hit the blocks dress in white
with some medicine balls
a pocket full of stone 3g's
and try to loge these hoes.
In the taz coming sick cause its
the mountains
Are you with me
Are you with me
Riding white rapid rivers
Through the sculpted land
Toward the sea
Are you with me
Are you with me
Riding mellow
I stick with my people like nails in a casket
Shoot at you bitches I hit em like basket
Keep a white a baby Im growing from cabbage
Feeling like
du kein' Termin, ah (huh)
Broke Boys, Gang, uh
Good Dope, Good Dope
Kunden kommen mit der Bahn oder Bus (Gang, Gang)
White Bitch, doch sie ist
Black pussy, white pussy, pink pussy, blue,
The name of the game is a Little Boy Blue, ai... Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, right on, here we go...
Gettin' it cricket, slangin' 'em sideways, walkin' up the streets
Residuals, re-enactments, constantly repeatedly burnin' Vogues
Flamboastin', high-sidin,
that simple, it's just human nature
What's that guy doing, I wonder?
I still got orange and white cassette tapes
Tents where my neighbor came
Sheets dance on the line
White as the clouds gone by
Screen door kicking time
As kids melt into the sky
You're making your moves
Trying just
I ran it up athlete
Boy you clutch as a Shaq three
Roll up the woods long as Shaq feet
Whole lotta good in my backie
Whole lotta white, ash knee
At the park, with my homie sipping red Kool-Aid (ahh)
Got approached by this white dude (damn, who that) dark blue shades
Thick accent, asked me if
At the park, with my homie sipping red Kool-Aid (ahh)
Got approached by this white dude dark blue shades
Thick accent, asked me if I'm tryna get paid
hearing crickets since I mixed it
Up
With their white momma
During a sexual coma
Body's burning sweating like a sauna
Thought of naming her Lana
Rhodes
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